


Bright Eyes on a Dark Night

by PanicAtTheKelsey



Category: Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicAtTheKelsey/pseuds/PanicAtTheKelsey
Summary: Hannibal finds you walking in the rain on your way home. He takes you back to his place since yours is too far away. This may or may not be a dangerous time for feelings to bubble back up. (Established past relationship. Hope you enjoy.)





	Bright Eyes on a Dark Night

"Dress shirts don't count as sleep shirts. What if I ruin it during the night? Rip an expensive button off of it? What would that cost, 25$ a button?" The man in front of you smirks ever so slightly, setting down his glass of wine at his coffee table to sit down in front of it. He steeples his fingers, gesturing you to sit in front of the fire. Your clothes, wet from the pouring rain outside, hang in front of the fire like stockings. Your body is wracked with shivers as you curl up close to the fire, pulling your knees to your chest.  
"More like $30." he accentuates. He seems to suddenly remember something, standing to pull the off a throw which hangs pristine over the couch like a drape. He rests it on your shoulders, pausing to inhale slightly.  
"I do not smell very nice, Hannibal. I /was/ just rescued from the rain." You chuckle. He chuckles darkly as well, standing upright again and straightening his suit jacket. He takes a long pause.  
"We both do that, you know. Our sense of smell is more heightened than other people's."  
"I'm aware." You hum, trying to cover yourself with the blanket completely, suddenly feeling exposed. He was watching you, which made the feeling creep into your brain even further. "Do you always stare this much? Does Will notice?" he doesn't speak but you could feel his gaze being casted elsewhere. The tension in your shoulders relax a little as you watch the glowing embers of the fire consume the logs he had placed prior to your meeting.  
"Do /you/ always walk in the rain as you come home from work?" You laugh, turning to face him.  
"No, but don't you wish? Wet t-shirt contest, hm?" You purr, batting your eyelashes sweetly.  
"I prefer my company dry and well-fed." he acts unphased, not meeting your eyes.  
"Is that so?" You pause, tucking the wet hair that was sticking to your face behind your ear. "In both of those cases, you have not been a very good host, Doctor Lector." You tempt, getting to your feet.  
"Well, would you like me to cook for you?"  
"Not me, no. I was just taking note of how I am treated as a guest in your home." You wink at him as you stand in front of one of his chairs. He sighs, watching you sit comfortably into it.  
"You have no need to worry about how I treat you." his words send shivers down your spine. He pauses before saying "I've set up the guest room for you."  
"Thank you. You didn't have to do this for me."  
"You live too far from here. It is a lot easier to house you here for the night."  
"I must retire."  
"So soon?"  
"Do you have a better idea?" You smirk, leaving him taken back a little at your boldness.  
"I have many ideas, but if you have work tomorrow you must sleep."  
"That's the thing. I don't work tomorrow." You wink, stretching your arms above your head as he watches your (his) shirt lift from your knees to your upper thigh. He clears his throat, averting his eyes as if you weren't already watching his reaction. "Do you still sleep in suits?"  
"I've learned not to sleep at all." he teases  
"Doctor Lector. Surely, you know you should sleep."  
"How can I without you by my side?" he purrs. You close your eyes and sigh heavily.  
"Hush. You've had too much wine." You shake your head, smiling.  
"I've never stopped thinking of you." his voice was no more than a whisper.  
"Goodnight, Hannibal." You pull the blanket tightly around you as you head upstairs to his guest room. You sit down on the bed, smoothing out the silky duvet with your fingertips. You rest your hand beside you, staring at it in a sort of trance before laying back into the covers. Soon You hear his firm footsteps climb the stairs, the light tapping of his dress shoes strike a bit of fear into your heart. You throw the duvet over you and settle in, listening to his footsteps fade away. Your mind wages war on itself, debating on if you should keep the shirt on or not. You loved the smell of it, the way it felt against your skin, but You felt horrible sleeping in it. You could never afford more than a $10 t-shirt most days, not like you’d care for anything more than that. When you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, you sit up to pull his shirt over your head. You grip the fabric tightly in your hand, pulling it to your chest and inhaling softly. He always smelled like fresh linen and the ocean somehow, which suspiciously smelled like the cheap cologne you had gotten him before. It was called Midnight Glow, you remember getting it for him for his birthday against his wishes of no presents and no party. You cant believe he still used it, it had been so long. You remember clearly picking it out because you felt the name suited him, and apparently it did. It must save him a fortune on the expensive cologne he used to wear. The bed suddenly felt empty. It hit you that, for the first time, You were in his house and you weren’t in his bed. You close your eyes tightly and try to sleep but nothing was letting you doze, You could still hear the rain outside and could hear every breath and pulse of your beating heart, and you felt lonely. You throw your feet off the side of the bed, pulling his shirt back on to cover yourself and peer outside the door of the guest room. You could see that the light in his room was on, and you knew he was sitting at his desk, writing, like he would do right before he would sleep. You approach the door cautiously, your hand resting on the knob of it without disturbing it too much. This was a bad idea, you think, removing your hand from the knob and turning to leave when you hear the door start to open. You think quickly, looking around and turning toward the direction of the bathroom.  
"Y/N?" he calls, forcing you to turn around to face him. "Not resting easy?"  
"Not quite. I'm not used to sleeping in a different bed." You chuckle, looking down at your bare feet against the cold tile floor. When you look up at him, his face was almost too sincere for you to believe.  
"You are welcome to sit with me for a while. Rest cannot find me either." he smiles sweetly at you, honey drips from his words. You can feel your teeth rotting just listening to him. "Shall we?" he extends his arm to you and you take the crook of his elbow as he leads you downstairs to pour another glass of wine. You drink almost two bottles between you, in relative silence. He had lectured you over and over about the importance of comfortable silence, how sometimes the best thing to say is nothing. You remember how your pride felt after that. He looks over at you, his eyes glazed over and dreamy. You had taken a place next to him, he had pulled your legs into his lap as you tried to rest. You had already forgotten how much time went by before you were like this. Your eyes would try to close but you were never asleep. You only opened them when you knew he was staring at you, his gaze seemed to hurt you. Just seeing him was making you nervous, your heart thrummed against your tender ribs, his face causing you to tense up. You felt so different since you had become estranged. He felt it wasn't working, he felt stuck and bored with you. That's how you took it at the time, though it was not the truth. He wasn't ready for you, it was right place wrong time for you. He had Will to attend to, and you knew that, but you didn't want to let that get to you. Yet, he did, and you left it there. You grew apart, and were thankful you hadn't moved in with the other or made any long term plans. Well, he was thankful; You were hurt. Now you see him stare at you and you could tell there was something he wanted to say. And you knew what it was. His fingers absentmindedly run over your calves before you move them to sit up. His cheeks were red and rosy, unlike he usually is. He was not a man to get rosy with anyone. You grab onto his hand to steady your thoughts. Touching him set you on fire, your face, your hands and your chest felt enflamed. Your fingers trace patterns into his palm as he continues to watch your expression. You felt as if nothing had changed. Almost a year of not seeing each other, and here you were sitting as if you had seen each other every day since. Looking into his eyes, you see him, the real him, and you know him all over again. His silence, his scent, his smile, his sleeping habits, you knew it all. His hand was heavy against your fingertips now, he laces his fingers in between your own. "I never got a chance to adore you as i wished to."  
"I know."  
"I know it was my fault." he sighs, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss the tips of your fingers. "I wish things had not turned out this way for us."  
"Me too. We just...had to go our separate ways. I get that." You reply, looking down, sadly.  
"I did not want to, you know that, correct?"  
"I actually didn't."  
"Y/N. I am so sorry." he opens your hand and places your palm against his cheek, clutching it there with his own hand as if comforting himself.  
"There's no need to apologize, love." You reach to hold onto the other side of his face, that same hand finds his ear, your thumb circling it gently.  
"I shouldn't have left you like that."  
"You're drunk."  
"I'm serious." he says sternly, still holding your forearms. He tugs on them, pulling you gently into his lap. You weren’t sure why you allowed him to. You knew you were both hurting. "It hurt me as much as it hurt you. I detest to admit I lost sleep, lost a bit of sanity."  
"Stop. You're just saying that. You're drunk. Dont get my hopes up again, Hannibal." You frown, situating yourself to get up, but his arms grip your waist tightly.  
"Maybe. But when I wake up, I will be sober. And you will still be on my mind." he rests his head on your chest, allowing your chin to rest on the top of his silver hair. You wrap your arms around his head gently, breathing slowly and taking in the scent of his shampoo. His hands find your back, running his fingers under the back of your shirt to touch your skin. Another quirk you picked up on, he explained it away as something he did involuntarily, but you knew it was the skin on skin contact he craved. At night when you would sleep you would find your shirt discarded at the foot of the bed, Hannibal's hand resting on top of your stomach. It was too often at the time but you wonder if he would still do that as you slept. "I think I am still in love with you, Y/N." he tries to keep collected about this, speaking still in a whisper but with such sweetness that you tear up. "I did not mean to upset you."  
"No, no, its just...." you sigh, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting your lips linger there for a bit. Your eyes well up slowly with tears as you find your voice again. "I think I'm still in love with you, too." Your voice was quiet. He pulls away from you, his hands firm at your back still holding you to him. You sniffle slightly, attributing this to the wine you had, and stand to shake it off. He seems to ache for you to sit back with him again, his arms still outstretched for you.  
"Come to bed with me?" he asks, his eyes more alert, as if you were leaving. You chuckle and walk back over to him to help him to his feet. He's a little wobbly but he lets you help him to stand. "Let me sleep well, for once. Y/N...I..." he stutters for a second, "I miss the feeling of your skin. I miss waking up to your face when you spend the night with me. I miss you, I want to..."  
"Shh, stop it." You laugh "Come on. Lets go to bed, yeah?" his eyes brighten, walking up the stairs with you again. Once you lead him to bed, he tries to pull you down with him, but you kneel to help him get his shoes off. "Do you want to change?" he shakes his head, so you leave the buttons on his vest alone. You push on his chest to make him lay back. He lets you, pulling your arm again to lay on top of him and you let him this time, your body gently falling on him, straddling his hips. His hands find your hips, rubbing slow circles on the skin there. You let him do this to comfort him, knowing it would help him sleep. You roll to the other side, watching his eyes follow you and he immediately grabs you to pull you as close as he could get you. He almost immediately falls asleep and you let out a laugh as his grip loosens. You become a bit curious, getting up to peer into his journal close to your side of the bed. You flip to tonight's page, but two or three pieces of paper fly out from between the pages. You pick them up and immediately recognize the pictures as...drawings, of you. You hold onto them gently, seemingly in another trance, then looking over to Hannibal sleeping soundly. Your eyes well up a little as you clutch your other hand to your mouth to silence yourself. You knew if he saw you right now he would be angry at you for snooping. You carefully open the journal again, reading the page there.  
"I saw her, and I realized I still love her. I could not leave her like that. It was raining and she was drenched. I knew i would feel this way again if I helped her but I had to. I do not know if i will be able to hold back my feelings if she stays any longer than a night. I still love her. Her eyes make me question what blue is. Her hair, even when unkempt, glows when I see her. Her skin is still as soft and unblemished as it always has been. I didn't even have to touch her to know it was the same. Her smell made me keep my distance because I knew if I could smell her, I would break. Her beauty is unlike anyone else's. I miss her more than anything, as well. I feel as if it is now or never. I could tell her tonight. I just might. I need her to know that its her. Its always been her." You mouthed the words to yourself before hurrying to close the pictures back into the book and place it back on his desk. You wipe away your tears as you climb back into bed with him. You nestle yourself into his chest and sob quietly, hoping he wouldn't wake up. You knew it was far fetched to think he wouldn't.  
"Y/N?" he whispers as you try to hide your tears. "What's wrong?"  
"I missed you so much. I just want to stay here with you forever." You mumbled as he nuzzles into your neck to inhale deeply.  
"I love you." he closes his eyes again to sleep, and it doesn't take him long to do so.

~~

He wasn't there with you when you could finally open your eyes again. A note lay on top of his desk in beautiful scrawl. "Downstairs making breakfast." was all it read. You steal one of his robes in your brazenness and wrap it around yourself as you make your way down to the kitchen.  
"I hope you did not expect anything elaborate." he accentuates  
"Of course not. If I did, I would've expected to be carried down here." You giggle, but immediately frown. "Do you remember anything from last night?"  
"Vaguely. Did I mention that I love you?" he says coolly and you laugh at him  
"Yes, yes you did."  
"Ah, yes. Been meaning to do that." he replies, again coolly. You couldn't believe how calm he sounded without the alcohol clouding his judgement. Which sounded odd that he was a bit more bolder and stern without it. "I'm sorry."  
"Dont be." You smile, sitting at the bar, sliding onto the stool with a bit of difficulty due to your height. He watches you struggle and bites his lip. He clears his throat audibly.  
"Did we....?"  
"Oh no, no." You laugh nervously "but you were as clingy as you always were when you get tipsy."  
"Hm. I suppose I haven't gotten any better at that." he chuckles, serving you a plate of what was for breakfast. Pancakes and bacon, he remembers. You look up at him, he was in a different suit, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Your breathing has to calm before he notices your staring. In the moment you feel as if you would do anything for him, your mind bending to his will. You felt as if you were going to fall off of a large building and the only thing keeping you from it was his strong hands around your chest. You would trust him that much, which you shouldn't; You knew this man, and what he was capable of. The truth is that you didn't care what he did. He could push you off of that building and you would let him. "Something wrong?" You shake your head, as if to clear your thoughts as well as give him your answer. You take the fork handed to you and gracefully cut up the pancakes, dipping them in syrup which he had poured onto it as he served you, when you weren’t paying attention. You couldn't focus much on the food as it seemed it had no taste. It wasn't as good when you knew this wasn't going to happen again. "I do not have any regrets on telling you that, Y/N."  
"Oh?" You look up, still only have eaten just a little. Your mind is racing, as if frantically searching for each word you wanted to tell him. You wanted to kiss him more than anything in the world. Your eyes lingering on his lips and hands. You wished you could do that without thinking so much. You wish your mind were clearer, unclouded by your fondness for him. He hums to confirm his words, taking his place beside you at the bar. "My clothes should be dry by now, yes?"  
"Yes." You walk to the fireplace, gathering your clothes.  
"I'm going to get changed." You announce.  
"Were the pancakes not to your liking?"  
"Oh no, they were delicious, I'm just not too hungry. My stomach is upset." You lie, averting your eyes to climb the stairs again, locking the bathroom when you get there. You pull his shirt over your head and throw on your clothes. When you finish, you fold the dress shirt nicely and place it on the sink, sitting down on the floor, your back against the door. You cover your face with your hands in frustration. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but it was long enough for you to hear footsteps climb the stairs and a gentle knock on the door.  
"Are you alright?" he calls. "You aren't yourself this morning. Are you feeling sick?"  
"I-I'm fine. Just..." You trail off, unsure what you were going to say.  
"I have medicine, should you need it."  
"I'm fine, Hannibal." You unlock the door, standing to open it and smile at him, grabbing his shirt.  
"I can tell you're scared. Have I done something wrong?"  
"Id rather not have this conversation in the bathroom." You chuckle. He grabs your arms, situating you on the other side of the door. His face was filled with several different things; fear, love, confusion, concern. It made you weak, so much so that you couldn't look at him. He leads you to his room, and you still cant bear to look at him. He reaches forward to grab your chin and looks at you questioningly. "My sweet love...." You whisper, barely audible.  
"What is troubling you?" he asks, sincere. His face is dangerously close to yours as you look down again.  
"It's been so long since I've seen you. Everything is flooding back to me, all at once. I could barely stand to watch you sleep, like I used to. I couldn't stand sleeping in your bed again without feeling as if I belong there. I still cant stand to be this close to you without my lips on your neck. Hannibal, it kills me. I need to leave."  
"Please don't." he says, tugging your arm to keep you from moving. "I need you. Y/N I cant stand for you not to be in my bed as you used to be. It was one of my biggest mistakes. My largest regret, was leaving you. Knowing you went to bed without me. Knowing I couldn't kiss you as I pleased..." his fingers find your palm, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips, kissing them sweetly, letting them rest there. He caresses your face and runs his thumb over your lips. "My question to you is: can you take me again? As we were?" You smile.  
"Happily." his hands suddenly grasp the sides of your face swiftly. As you gasp at the sudden movement, he kisses you. Your mouth consumed with his own, as he tries to pull away, you pull him back. His hands find your waist, his thumbs digging into your hips. When you let him move away, he pulls you to the bed to hold you in his lap.  
"It tore me apart thinking of how many men could have you this way."  
"They didn't....I couldn't. I was yours. Always." You whisper breathily. He hums, more of a moan than anything. It was pornography to you. Watching him ache for your touch once again was enough to have you melting into his embrace. His scent stronger than ever, and you could finally taste the pancakes. The sweet syrup seemed to come from his lips.  
"I love you." he mumbles, kissing you again, leading kisses down your cheek, jaw, neck and shoulder. His hand runs up your shirt, unhooking your bra just to touch your back with no barrier. "I could just..."  
"Eat me up?" You smirk, finishing the sentence for him. You move to straddle his hips and rest your nose against the underside of his ear. "Don't let me leave again." You whisper.  
"Never. You're mine."


End file.
